


Birds with broken wings (rarely fly again)

by Zargontari



Series: Death is impossible (when we keep their memory alive). [2]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Basically philza has a very bad time sorry philza, Hurt No Comfort, Mindbreak, if you are a dream apologist you probably shouldn't read this, philza gets put in the jail, self indulgent philza angst, technoblade is not Philza's son, tommyinnit was not exiled, well not good comfort anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:14:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28895676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zargontari/pseuds/Zargontari
Summary: Technoblade had called Tommy Theseus, after the greek myth. Dream thinks that if Tommy is Theseus, then Techno must be Achilles - unbeatable and unstoppable save for one small patch of skin.And as Dream watches how the warrior interacts with the angel, he thinks he's found his heel.(Or; Philza gets put in the prison and some very bad, not good things ensue.)
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: Death is impossible (when we keep their memory alive). [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2109849
Comments: 6
Kudos: 73





	1. Revelations

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is my first ever multichaptered fic, and I hope to update it fairly frequently. I apologise for how this chapter flows; I want to get into the actual pain as soon as possible so this is just setup.
> 
> Comments and kudos fuel me (but if you just want to lurk, that's fine too.)

Technoblade is a problem. Dream doesn't think he's the first person to think this to themself, but it's annoying that the Admin has to think it at all. Technoblade is a flaw in an otherwise perfectly crafted plan - a squeaky gear in his tried and true machine. The piglin hybrid had been a surprise to his SMP. No one had warned Dream that he would be coming; which normally wouldn't be a problem, but Dream's met Technoblade before - fought him, even. (Fought him and lost, a nerve that still stings.)

Technoblade had welcomed himself into what was by all means Dream's home and started wreaking havoc. The thought that he would have the audacity makes Dream grit his teeth behind the mask, hands ever so slightly tightening on the stone wall that he hides behind, watching his current quarry tend to his farm. After the war and subsequent re-election, Technoblade had apparently retreated to the artic; taking a vow of peace along with him. It's bullshit, honestly. Dream knows his type. As long as there are battles to fight, blood to shed, and wars to win; he is going to fight. It's his nature. Dream supposes he can't fault him for that alone, but for every thing that comes as a result of his actions, that he can fault Technoblade for - and will. He has to be leashed, and soon.

But how do you leash something that knows nothing of boundaries? How do you control a man who doesn't care for himself at all? 

Thinking back to the festival and the shitshow that came after, Dream recalls vaguely that Technoblade had referred to Tommy as Theseus, after the greek myth. Dream thinks that if Tommy is Theseus, then Techno must be Achilles - unbeatable and unstoppable save for one small patch of skin. 

During these weeks of watching Technoblade, he's only found one person the man voluntarily hangs around; an avian hybrid who the piglin seems to share an unlikely kinship with. Not only that, but the man is Wilbur Soot (may you rest in hell, you bastard) and Tommyinnit's father. How peculiar that the two of them would meet, much less become friends.

What Dream knows of Philza is pretty much the same as what everyone else knows - a player from low standings who rose through the ranks by way of a five year survival hardcore world, one that left him more scarred than whole. Where there should have been three lives per server now remains one - just one death away from being banned. However, Dream would have called it worth it, had he been in those shoes. Philza had battled the Dragon and won - not only won, but had lived for much longer afterwards, long enough to gain the wings that frame his back and show over the tops of his shoulders, each wing longer than the man is tall and rendering him capable of flight. 

Personality-wise, Philza and Techno being friends makes even less sense. Where Technoblade is rough and sharp, Philza seems to be kind. When Technoblade is screaming, Philza is calm. Maybe their bond makes a little sense - opposites attract, apparently, (he'd always thought of that as bullshit) - but that doesn't make it any less odd.

Currently, the angelesque man is helping Technoblade tend to the farm that they had built in the last few hours. With him, Technoblade seems calm, almost; or at least, as calm as a monster in wait can be. He's leaning against his hoe, smiling at Philza, who is animatedly speaking of something that Dream isn't close enough to hear. They're laughing. 

And it hits him, then, that he doesn't need to look any longer. Achilles' heel is staring him in the face, wearing a striped bucket hat.

Well. He's found it now, but what comes next? Just threatening him would do no good - the two of them warriors long-used to the threat of blood and unafraid of death even as it stared them in the face. Just holding an axe to Philza's neck would do no good, no; he needs to control him. Philza is Technoblade's leash, and Dream needs to learn how to hold him.

Thankfully, Dream has a place tucked away; a side project that has gone unused and buried. In order to break the beast, he must control the leash first and thankfully Dream has always been good at control. All he needs is the man alone. Dream is confident that training Philza to obey his beck and call won't be terribly difficult.

Unlike Technoblade, Dream thinks that Philza will be fairly easy to manipulate. An already grieving father threatened with the loss of another of his children will crack easily under the stress, and when the father falls..

Well, you know the saying.

Like father, like son.

It's time for Dream to get his hand back on the leash, and if he has a little bit of fun on the way then who's going to tell on him?


	2. An invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What are you willing to give up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeaaaaaah, another chapter :) trying to work on pacing, still, so sorry if it's a bit wonky.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments fuel me!

The tundra is cold. Philza's wings subconsciously tighten to his body to shield himself from the breeze, but the frigid air cuts through his feathers anyway. He's not particularly upset that Technoblade had chosen to live here of all places - it doesn't surprise him, really; the piglin had always been fond of the cold for some bizarre reason - but he had dared himself to hope that maybe this time they'd be someplace warm.

Speaking of Technoblade, Phil forces himself back into the present as he realizes that his friend is speaking to him.

"-and I think that with time, I can get something workin' with it, but it isn't going to be all cut and dry." Phil simply nods along with the words, not quite sure what he's talking about. He's fairly sure that it was something to do with the exp farm that they were discussing earlier, but it's better to not interrupt a spiel. "Yeah, mate, that makes sense." 

For some reason that only causes an almost imperceptible concern to blossom across Techno's face. "You, uh- you alright, Phil? You've been spacin' out a lot on me lately and I'm not saying I'm worried or anythin' but-", Phil laughs, cutting him off. "No, Techno, nah. I'm fine, just tired. You know how it is."

Techno looks away and huffs a laugh of his own, just a quiet chuckle in the back of his throat. "Yeah." After a moment passes without further conversation, Technoblade coughs into his elbow. "I think that I'm gonna take Carl to the village that way," he gestures towards the east, where Phil can vaguely remember seeing a village that they had passed on the way, "see if I can't get them to agree on some enchanted book trades. Need to get more zombie villagers restored soon, but 'til then I guess we just gotta make do. You want to come with me?" 

Phil pretends to think about it for a minute, but he had decided before Techno had even asked him. "Nah, mate, but thanks. Think I'll sit this one out." He smiles to try and prevent the suspicion he knows is coming. Truth be told, he doesn't want to be around anyone right now. Even Techno's presence pushes it - though he'd never say that to him. Technoblade looks like he wants to push it, but Phil knows he won't. "Alright, suit yourself. I'll be back in," a glance at the sun, "ah, maybe a day or so, weather depending. You'll be fine here by yourself?"

"Yeah."

"That's that, then. I'm goin' to go get my things and start heading that way."

Phil watches as Technoblade walks back inside, then eyes him until the hybrid has ridden far enough into the distance that he can no longer watch. Only then does he allow his shoulders to sag. Phil's wings brush the edges of the snow, but he can't bring himself to care. It's one of the first times since being here that he can say that he is well and truly alone, and he lets himself just take it in for a moment.

A lot has happened over the last week, and he'd done things he'd never wanted to. If he'd known what would happen.. if he'd had 𝘢𝘯𝘺 inkling that things would turn out the way that they have-

No. There's no use living in the has-beens and could-have-beens; no matter how comforting those may be. Phil doesn't deserve to let himself think of what could have been when it was by his hands that things happened the way that they did. With a heavy sigh, Phil smooths out his coat and sits in the snow. He has to face the facts no matter how much they hurt.

Wilbur is dead.

That's all there is to it. Well, mostly, anyway. He doesn't want to think about the rest, but he has to.

Wilbur is dead, and 𝘗𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘻𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

Nevermind that Wilbur had quite literally begged for it, nevermind that he probably would have been killed anyway; Philza had struck the final blow. Philza had taken his son's life with the blade they used to train with, had held Wilbur's bleeding body close in his last moments as if he deserved to touch what he had ruined. He should have done more. Phil should have realized that something was wrong long before he did. He was Wilbur's goddamned father, after all - if he even deserves that title still after what he did - and hell to all, he should have known.

So lost in his thoughts, Philza doesn't notice the sky growing darker. He doesn't notice how his wings stiffen from the cold, joints locking up as the temperature plummets.

He does, however, notice when a creeper walks up behind him and ruins Technoblade's property value with an explosion.

"Ah, shit." 

With a sigh, the man begins to refill the hole with dirt that the mob hadn't blown up, thanking his singular lucky star that he himself had been wearing his armour, and as such was unscathed by the blast. Phil can hear Techno's nagging voice already, reminding him that he 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦, and he 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭, and that he 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘗𝘩𝘪𝘭, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘻𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘪𝘦? Hardee har har, Technoblade. The baby zombie thing had been funny exactly one time.

Once the hole is filled, the surrounding area is easily cleared of mobs. He's tempted to put the rotten flesh on Techno's bed, just to be an ass, but decides that however his friend decides to pay him back probably wouldn't be worth it and dumps it all in a random chest instead. 

The house is mostly quiet save for the sounds of the fire and the Enderman that Techno keeps in a boat for whatever reason. Phil still keeps his footsteps silent as he climbs the ladder that leads to the room, only to pause at the second floor. On the table lies a sealed letter that he's never seen before. Had Techno.. but no, he decides as picks it up; this isn't Techno's work. The paper isn't the kind that his friend uses - and nor is the handwriting on the front. It has his name on the front of it in flowery writing. Phil tears open the top to look inside it.

𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘗𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘻𝘢,

𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵? 𝘌𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮. 𝘉𝘺 𝘸𝘦, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘦. 𝘚𝘦𝘦, 𝘗𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘻𝘢, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 - 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 - 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥. 𝘐'𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘦. 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵.

𝘚𝘰 𝘐 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯: 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘗𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘻𝘢? 

𝘐𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘰𝘯.

\- :)

On the bottom of the page, a set of coordinates is written. Phil's wings are fluffed, raised defensively even though he's alone. How dare he? This is Dream, it has to be. No one else would threaten his children, or would want them gone so badly.

But he's right, isn't he? Tommy and Techno both don't know when to stop, and Wilbur's death has fueled them for the worst. They both want blood for blood, no matter how many lives it will take. They'd kill themselves for what they believe in.

By the time that dawn starts to show over the trees, Phil is saddling his horse, a bag thrown over his shoulder. It's time he does more than be idle. He'd protect his children whether they wanted it or not.

No matter the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- :)
> 
> Whatever the cost, Phil?

**Author's Note:**

> If any fellow lovers of angst have any suggestions on what I should do to our feathered friend, i am open to options.


End file.
